


The Masseur and the Assassin

by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle)



Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Assassination, Assassins & Hitmen, Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Bucky Barnes Feels, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Massage, Orgasm, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Life Choices, Porn with Feelings, Protective Steve Rogers, Sex Toys, Simultaneous Orgasm, Spa Treatments, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28415133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/buckybarnesdeservestobehappy
Summary: Bucky Barnes needed a vacation from his job. What he found was a happy ending.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087151
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Square Filled: B5; AU: Spy, Secret Agent, Assassin, or Hitman  
> Ship: Stucky (Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes)
> 
> Double Bingo!
> 
> I really have no excuse for this. I had an idea for how this would go, and my fingers simply refused to agree. *shrugs*

Bucky Barnes needed a break. He didn’t get burned out too often, but it had been a hell of a year. Maybe it was his job or maybe it was that he was lonely. Maybe it was that his partner had decided to retire and he’d had to pick up the slack. Perhaps he wasn’t cut out to be an assassin anymore. It took a toll, after all, and Bucky was nothing if not conscientious.

He should have been pickier about his jobs. That was why he missed Natasha so much. She’d been the one to make the deals before she’d flown off into the sunset for a well-deserved life of normality. He wasn’t as good at discerning which targets deserved what they got and which were really revenge jobs that did little other than destroying a life. After his next job was over, he would take a break, reevaluate, and decide where to go in the future.

Three days later, he set up his gun and waited. He’d done this so many times he could practically take out a target in his sleep. He was the best at what he did, after all, although he’d been better when he was part of a team. The irony was that he’d helped train Natasha, had guided her as she honed her skills, and she’d made him superior at what he did. He missed her, and that made him a liability in his own job. Being vulnerable meant he could be distracted, and being distracted meant he could fail. Failure wasn’t an option. As soon as that happened, he’d need to find another career. Maybe he should anyway.

Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts and watched the activity unfolding at street level. From his position on the twentieth floor in the building that faced the erected stage, he had a perfect view of the spot where his target would be sitting in thirty minutes. Why he’d been hired to take out a low-level diplomat he wasn’t sure, but he did know the government for whom his target worked was corrupt to its core. Maybe this assassination was an attempt to start the cleansing process and create an administration that would work for the good of its citizens.

That’s what he told himself as he lined up his shot—that he was making a positive difference in the world by taking out his target. He had to believe that so he could keep taking jobs. Otherwise, he’d never be able to live with himself.

People scrambled as his mark fell, and he dismantled his rifle and packed up in seconds. He was out of the building and headed away from the crime scene within a minute. He caught a cab and then made his train a few minutes early and was headed home before the investigation even began. He was that good, but he was tired. He’d done what he needed to do. It was time for a break.

* * *

He woke tired, and that wasn’t a good thing. Four days since his last job, and no one was the wiser. Bucky was a master assassin. There were no traces. Nothing could tie him to the death of the diplomat, and he deserved a day off from his work. Yawning, he stumbled to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. Scruffy hair, unshaven beard, and red-rimmed eyes stared back at him. He looked older than his thirty-two years. He needed a vacation. He really, really did.

“How’s that for a plan?” he asked his reflection. “How about finding some sand and surf and quiet and figuring out where to go from here?”

He looked as tired as he felt. His shoulders slumped, and his hair hung lankly down his back. A deep furrow in his brow accompanied the frown he threw at himself, and he decided it was time for a little bit of pampering. Or a lot.

Maybe he’d book a massage. He’d like that, maybe. It had been months since he’d felt anyone’s hands on his body, and he craved a little attention. He could always visit that spa Natasha had suggested more than once when he’d lashed out at her when stressed. It catered to wealthy clients who craved confidentiality and discretion. He had money, and he needed to remain invisible.

Bucky fired up his tablet and found the website. He spent several minutes perusing the services offered before he spotted a tab labeled “special services.” Intrigued, he clicked it and immediately knew he’d found something he hadn’t even realized he wanted.

The spa obviously had a specialized clientele. If not, the owners had powerful allies who looked the other way as services were rendered. There were all sorts of amenities geared toward providing satisfaction of an erotic nature, and he almost clicked away before biting his bottom lip. He was tired of his own hand. What harm would it be to hire someone else to give him a little relief?

He pondered for a few minutes, but finally, he relented. Before he could change his mind, he booked a 90 minute massage with a happy ending. If the experience was terrible, he didn’t have to go back. If he enjoyed himself…well, he had a lot of money to pay for what he wanted and an appreciation for people who knew how to keep secrets.

Bucky jumped in the shower and was slightly surprised to find an email waiting for him once he’d finished. Tying his wet hair back in a soggy bun, he opened the message and glanced over the information he’d received from the spa. There were more choices, he realized, and Bucky wasn’t sure how to choose what he really wanted.

Did he want a man or woman to massage him? Would that preference change for the final result? Was he allergic to anything? The questions went on and on, and he almost threw up his hands in frustration. Instead, he closed the document and decided to clear up all the indecision when he arrived at the spa. He couldn’t be the only one to not know how to answer those questions. If he took a nip or two of whiskey to calm his nerves before he left, that was between him and no one else.

* * *

“Mr. Barnes, welcome to Asgard.”

The man behind the reception desk might have been the best-looking person Bucky had ever seen. His name tag identified him as Thor, and Bucky almost snorted at the commitment to Norse mythology. There was no way that was this guy’s real name, but he was smoking hot.

Thor walked him through the services, and Bucky was only slightly disappointed it wouldn’t be the Norse god’s hands helping him find fulfillment. Instead, Bucky settled on a masseur with a non-descript name. Steve Rogers was as generic as it came, and Bucky was fine with that.

Until Steve came to get him from the waiting area, and Bucky almost swallowed his own tongue.

Steve Rogers was gorgeous—tall and broad with muscles that went on for days. And his face. Aristocratic nose, full lips, sparkling blue eyes, strong jaw. Bucky almost drooled.

“Mr. Barnes? I’m Steve. I’ll be serving you today. Welcome.”

That voice was magical. The deep tones flowed over Bucky and reverberated inside his bones. He practically sprang to his feet and followed along behind the man, cheerfully checking out the firm ass under tight, navy blue scrubs. He owed Natasha his soul for recommending this place. If the massage was half as good as Steve looked, he’d be booking a return visit before leaving.

Steve led him to a small, darkened room and ushered him inside. The walls were a cozy burgundy lit only by a small lamp in the corner and a few diffusers releasing spicy scents into the air. Steve motioned to the chair and instructed Bucky to remove as many layers as he felt comfortable shedding and to lie down on the table with his face in the circular pillow attached to the end of the table. When he’d given his directions, he stepped from the room to give Bucky privacy. It seemed a little silly, considering what services Bucky had booked, but it must be standard procedure.

When Bucky was naked, his clothes neatly folded in the chair, he stretched out on the table, chest down, face cradled in the pillow, and the blanket hitched over his hips. He only waited a few moments before Steve knocked gently on the door and entered the room.

“Comfortable?” he asked, and Bucky hummed. He was too wound up to speak. “Relax. I’m going to take good care of you.”

He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift. He was vaguely aware of Steve moving around the room, the sound of massage oil being warmed between strong hands, the soothing music. All of it combined to create a calming atmosphere, and he felt his shoulders loosen the slightest bit. When Steve rubbed his palms along Bucky’s back, Bucky groaned at the pressure.

“Feel good?”

“Yes,” he grunted.

“You’re really tense, Mr. Barnes. I’m going to help relieve some of that stress. Let me know if something hurts. Otherwise, just enjoy.”

He did. He absolutely did. Steve’s hands were strong, his fingers perfectly skilled as they stroked Bucky’s skin, worked knots out of muscles, and made Bucky moan. He couldn’t help himself, and it would have been embarrassing if it hadn’t felt so damn good.

Steve worked his shoulders and back for several long minutes. He dug into Bucky’s spine with the heels of his hands and kneaded the soreness from his shoulder blades. Then he moved to the arms and hands. Bucky hadn’t even realized his hands needed attention, but the feel of Steve massaging his palms and fingers felt like heaven.

When Steve shifted to his legs, Bucky thought he might pass out. He started on Bucky’s calves and worked upward to his thighs. And then…

Bucky’s moan reverberated through the room. Steve’s fingers stroked between his legs, featherlight and brief, before returning to Bucky’s thighs. He repeated his actions multiple times, and Bucky responded the same every time.

“Feel good?” Steve asked softly, and Bucky almost wept.

“So good,” he groaned. “Everything is amazing.”

“I can focus here for a while if that’s something you’d enjoy.”

“Please,” he practically begged, and Steve released a pleased chuckle.

“Your wish is my command. Can you spread a little for me?”

Bucky moved his legs and practically purred at the feeling of Steve’s hands on his ass. More oil on Steve’s hands, fingers between his cheeks, gentle stroking of his taint, a blunt tip inside his hole, gentle brushes against his balls. All of it combined to make Bucky vibrate under Steve’s ministrations. He was hard against the table, disconcertingly so since they were nowhere near the ending. He couldn’t stop the sounds falling from him, and he squirmed as Steve fondled his rim.

“Everything okay?” Steve asked.

Bucky fought to not rear back against him. “Fine,” he gasped.

“Do you want…?”

“God, yes, but it’s—”

“Tell me.”

“It’s too soon. It’s supposed to be the end.”

Steve stroked him again and answered in a soothing tone. “There’s no reason it can’t be now and at the end, too.”

Bucky groaned at the thought. “Really?”

“Really,” Steve assured him. “It’s okay, Mr. Barnes. You don’t have to hold back with me.”

“My name’s Bucky,” he panted.

“Okay, Bucky. Just feel. You’re the client, and you get to call the shots.”

Steve stroked him a few more times before massaging him open. He breached the ring, and Bucky whined. He gasped and puffed, desperate for release. Grinding into the table, he yelped at the friction and broke. He was louder than he expected, but that was because it was one of the most satisfying orgasms of his life. It took forever before he stopped quaking, but Steve didn’t stop plying him with attention. He was slick with massage oil on his back, and his front was wet from his own climax. His limbs were loose and pliant, and he thanked his lucky stars he’d booked the extended session instead of the 60 minute package.

“That’s what I like to see, Mr.—uh, Bucky. Let that stress go. We’re going to turn over now. It’s time to work your front.”

Bucky giggled, and he would have been horrified if he didn’t feel so fucking amazing. He let Steve roll him onto his side, cover the mess with a warm towel, and then arrange Bucky on his back. He blinked at the ceiling, but Steve’s face swam before his eyes. Kind eyes and a tiny smirk graced Steve’s face, and Bucky fought down a flash of desire to have this be what greeted him when he opened his eyes every morning.

Bucky closed his eyes and licked his lips when Steve mopped up his front. He listened as water ran. Steve washed his hands before covering them again in warmed oil and sliding his palms across Bucky’s chest. Bucky hummed at the sensation, and his breath caught when Steve’s fingers dug into the grooves between his abs. Steve moved lower and lower, and grazed his fingertips along the wiry hair of Bucky’s happy trail.

“I don’t know what you do for a living, but it’s good to see you letting some of that stress go. Let’s get rid of that worry right here.”

Steve ran his fingers over Bucky’s forehead and down along his cheeks. He pressed his thumbs along Bucky’s brows and pushed the stress out of his forehead, down his neck, and out of his body. When he moved to Bucky’s scalp, a breathy groan erupted into the room. He pressed into the base of Bucky’s skull, and Bucky preened like a cat. When Steve didn’t move, Bucky nuzzled into the pressure.

“Yeah,” he groaned. “This is…so…”

He couldn’t finish his thought, but that didn’t seem to deter Steve. He simply kept stroking Bucky’s hair and scalp until Bucky shivered under the attention. When he moved to Bucky’s feet, Bucky knew they were nearing the end. He tried not to think about that and focus on how good everything felt. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he’d definitely recovered. He was hard again, and the blanket covering his lap did nothing to hide that fact.

Steve repeated his attention on Bucky’s thighs, and there wasn’t any surprise when his slick fingers eased in between Bucky’s legs and stroked the area that made Bucky whimper. When Steve cupped his balls, Bucky sucked in a breath and eased it out in an elongated hiss.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. Please.”

Steve’s palm closed over him, and Bucky yelped at the sensation. He was grateful for his earlier climax because it was the only reason he had any stamina at all. Steve’s strokes were confident and perfectly timed, and his other hand tugged off the blanket to expose all of Bucky to his masseur.

“How does this feel, Bucky?” Steve’s voice was low and soothing, and Bucky fought hard to open his eyes. Steve’s were hazy, and it did Bucky’s heart good to know he had an effect on Steve, too.

“Feels so good,” he moaned. Steve’s eyes darkened at the admission, and Bucky bucked up into Steve’s fist. Fascinated, he watched his cock sliding in and out of Steve’s hand. Steve reached behind him to slick up his other palm, and Bucky groaned. “Steve, please.”

“I told you I’d take care of you. Let me know how it feels. Don’t hold back, Buck. Let me hear you.”

“Steve!” Bucky shouted when thick fingers slid inside him. “Yeah. Fuck, baby. Fill me up.”

“You want more?”

“Yes,” he panted. “Harder. Give it to me rough.”

“You like it rough, Bucky? You like it when I hurt you a little bit?”

Bucky whined in response, but Steve only jerked harder. Bucky squirmed as the pressure grew, and his hand accidentally nudged against Steve’s groin. When Steve flinched away with a low moan, Bucky’s gaze snapped to Steve’s crotch. His dark scrubs did nothing to hide the bulge there.

“Tell me there’s a package that lets me touch you, too,” Bucky whispered. “I’ll pay whatever it is.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered, and he shook his head. “There’s not.”

“Then tell me you want it, anyway.”

Steve closed his eyes. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “I can’t—”

“I thought I was the client and got to call the shots.”

“Bucky…”

He reached over, and Steve didn’t stop him. He rubbed Steve through his pants, and Steve thrust into his hand. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. That’s what I want.”

Words failed as they gripped each other. Bucky’s legs splayed open, wide and welcoming. Steve was hard in his hand, and they jacked off at the same pace. Steve’s curled his fingers inside him, and Bucky almost came off the table.

“’M so close,” he sobbed. “So close, Steve.”

It happened slowly. Building into a crescendo, it flowed through him, warming him from the pit of his stomach and out through his fingers before pumping from him in languid, milky stripes. His groan stretched for what felt like hours, but Steve’s exploded from him in a fury. It spattered his side and shot onto Steve’s shirt and Bucky’s hand. Steve sagged when he came, but he made sure to stroke Bucky through it all. He didn’t stop until Bucky grew too sensitive and shrugged away from his touch.

“Fuck,” he drawled as his eyes slid closed. He melted into the table, a pleased grin stretching his face. He must look like a loon, but he felt too good to care. He was relaxed and opened up and covered in oil and come. He’d just exchanged hand jobs with one of the hottest men he’d ever met, and he was absolutely positive this activity would become a regular appointment. He hoped Steve would like that.

Steve’s face was beet red when he was finally able to pry his eyes open. Bucky reached for his hand and squeezed it. “You deserve a raise.”

“Mr. Barnes—”

“My name is Bucky,” he insisted.

“Bucky, I…”

“You weren’t supposed to do that?” When Steve nodded miserably, Bucky chuckled, “I do a lot of things I’m not supposed to. This is nothing.”

“It’s not! I shouldn’t have… I’ve never—”

“Well, now you have, and I have every intention of coming back soon to do this all over again.”

Steve flushed even deeper, but he only nodded. Tucking himself back in his pants, he motioned at Bucky’s state and resumed his professionalism.

“I’ll just step outside so you can get dressed. Thor can help you with payment. I hope to see you soon, Mr. Barnes—Bucky. It was a genuine pleasure serving you today.” With that, Steve slipped out the door and left Bucky alone.

He relaxed into the table for several more moments before groaning and rocking to his feet. He walked on shaky legs to the chair where his clothes waited and forced his clumsy fingers to grip the material and then guide it back over his feet and arms. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed. Steve deserved a massive tip.

“I take it everything was to your liking, sir?” Thor asked when Bucky returned to the reception desk.

“Everything was wonderful.”

“And your masseur?”

“Deserves a raise.”

“Excellent. Can I interest you in scheduling a repeat visit?”

“Definitely.”

Bucky left Asgard a few minutes later. He’d arranged for a healthy tip for Steve and another massage for himself scheduled in two weeks. He could hardly wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's waited two long weeks, but he's back at Asgard and ready for a repeat session with Steve. It can't possibly be better than the initial one, right? Except it absolutely, definitely, really, positively is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Square Filled: C3; Free Space  
> Ship: Stucky (Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes)

It had been two weeks since Bucky had his happy endings, and he was anxious for another one. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his visit to Asgard and Steve Rogers’ magical hands since that day. He hadn’t taken a job or shot another target. He’d spent fourteen days doing nothing. Well… He’d done a lot of masturbating, but he hadn’t killed anyone. In his profession, that meant he’d been less than productive in any real way.

Bucky had absolutely no desire to admit to anyone that he’d relived his massage experience at least a dozen times in the past two weeks. To be fair, it had been a long time since Bucky’d been with anyone, but there was something genuinely endearing about his masseur.

Maybe he’d taken things too far. He hadn’t meant to make Steve uncomfortable or endanger Steve’s job, but the thought of that hunk of manhood hard because of Bucky had been too much to resist. He found himself wanting to make it happen again and again and again and again. He briefly wondered how feasible it would be to hire Steve away and have a personal massage therapist, but that seemed slightly desperate. Then again, he was a little.

If he wasn’t a paragon of masculinity, Bucky might skip to the spa, but he controlled himself and strolled leisurely instead. Still, he arrived a full thirty minutes early and tried really hard to make it seem like that was normal for him when Thor raised a speculative eyebrow from behind the reception desk.

“Mr. Barnes! You’re early. I hope that means you’re eager to experience our services again.”

He shrugged, desperately trying to remain nonchalant. “I was in the area.”

“I see.” Thor nodded and checked the schedule. “We could get you in early if you’d like to try another masseur. Steve’s still finishing up with another client.”

A shot of jealousy streaked through him, and he swallowed the feeling. He had no right to feel that way, but he certainly didn’t want to give up his own reserved time.

“No thanks. I’m happy to wait.”

“I can understand that. Steve is one of our best.”

“I can personally vouch for him,” Bucky agreed with a bashful grin and settled into a leather chair. He flipped through his email and sent Natasha a brief note filling her in on his indecision about his future as an assassin. He still hadn’t made any progress in figuring out what he wanted to do with himself, but his bank account was hefty. He had time, and he had the inclination to get out of his line of work. It wasn’t a life that lent itself to having someone else around, and Bucky thought maybe it was time for that.

“Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky shot upright from his slumped position. He knew that voice, and it sent a shiver through him. He rose and smiled before greeting Steve. He looked even better than he had the last time, and Bucky had the terrible realization that his dick was just as happy to see his masseur as Bucky himself was.

“Come on back. I got done a little early. I figured you wouldn’t mind the extra time.”

“No, that’s… that’s great!” he agreed and followed Steve down the hall. He made a point this time not to check out the firm ass that preceded him, but he was still turned on by the time they made it to their room. Anticipation crackled in the air.

“Welcome back. I’m glad you enjoyed it enough last time to repeat.” Steve motioned to the chair and table and said, “I’ll just let you get ready and be back in a few minutes. Take your time.”

“You don’t—”

“It’s procedure, Mr. Barnes. I’m afraid I have to,” Steve said softly as he backed out of the room.

“It’s Bucky!” he called as the door snicked closed.

Deflated, he stripped and folded his clothes and settled onto the table. Steve came back after knocking softly, the same way he did last time, and Bucky closed his eyes. He was here for a massage, not a relationship. Steve was paid to do this. His leaving the room wasn’t a rejection of Bucky. Steve was a professional, and Bucky would do well to remember that.

“Welcome back, Bucky,” Steve said in a husky voice as his hands brushed across Bucky’s back. “Is there anything you didn’t enjoy last time?”

“No,” he mumbled. “Everything you did last time was amazing. Don’t change a thing.”

“I won’t. Unless you’re up for trying some new techniques that might enhance your experience. Please feel comfortable to let me know.”

And then Steve’s hands were on Bucky, and he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his lips. Those magical palms and long fingers working over his skin felt so goddamn good that Bucky squirmed against the table in seconds.

“You’re not as tense this time. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, but it’s good for you. Your shoulders… Uh, your shoulders are more relaxed, and your back—”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat, and Bucky melted. He thought his memory was pretty good, but nothing compared to the feeling of capable hands rubbing his body—especially when they were attached to someone as sexy as Steve.

“I took some time off,” Bucky grunted. “Thinking of changing my line of work. Something less stressful.”

“That sounds like a good idea. Although I’ll miss seeing you around here if you don’t need the help relaxing.”

“You won’t have to worry about that,” he insisted and closed his eyes. His head was spinning, and he wanted to lean into the feel of Steve’s massage.

Steve dug into his spine and lower back. He smoothed the muscles of Bucky’s arms and pressed into his fingers. Bucky swooned—literally swooned—at how good it felt, and he forced himself to enjoy the sensations instead of wishing Steve would work on his legs. Because when that happened…

“That’s good,” Steve murmured, offering approval that made Bucky wiggle with excitement.

It had been so long since anyone praised him, and it felt remarkably good. Being the best assassin in the world wasn’t exactly something he could put on a resume. He wasn’t that great at anything else, but Steve seemed to think Bucky was enough just because he was him. That felt almost as wonderful as Steve’s hands on his body.

He knew it wasn’t appropriate, but he allowed his mind to drift. He could almost imagine this was a regular domestic scene with his lover if he blocked out the tiny voice in his head that told him to stop being an idiot.

“How does that feel?” Bucky groaned as an answer, and Steve laughed in response. “I think it’s time for your legs now. That okay?”

“Shit, yes,” Bucky hissed. “Please.”

Steve didn’t bother to ask this time. He tugged Bucky’s legs wider and slathered oil on his hands. He started at Bucky’s feet and pressed into the arches. Bucky, whimpering at the pressure, assumed he’d reached another plane of existence. Steve spent more time on the soles of his feet, even concentrating on each of his toes.

“You have pretty feet, Bucky,” Steve said softly. “I don’t usually say that, but that’s because it’s usually not true. But yours…well, everything on you is pretty.”

Silence hung between them for a few seconds until Steve coughed.

“Sorry. That was inappropriate.”

Bucky chuckled. “Steve, I’m paying you to massage my asshole and jerk my dick. Telling me you think I’m good-looking won’t make that more awkward. Might make it even better.”

“Yeah? You like to hear you’re pretty?”

“I like everything you do to me,” he admitted. “I want all of it.”

“Well, you are, Buck,” Steve assured him. “You’re a gorgeous human. It’s a pleasure to be able to touch all of you.”

Bucky almost came off the table, even though he knew it was coming. Steve’s hands, warm and slick, trailed up his calves and thighs and slipped between Bucky’s legs. Bucky couldn’t help from pushing against the pressure, and Steve circled the furled flesh with the pad of his thumb. Bucky emitted needy moans as the pressure increased. Steve teased and prodded for what felt like hours until Bucky’s whole body shook.

“I have some tools that might make this more pleasurable if you’d be into that,” Steve suggested in a husky tone.

“Fuck yeah,” Bucky slurred against the face rest. “Use everything you can. Please, Stevie.”

“Stevie. I like that.”

Bucky registered the sound of a low electronic pulse, and then his brain short-circuited. Something vibrated against his hole, and Steve pressed and retreated in an alternating rhythm that didn’t allow Bucky to adjust. He scrambled, but Steve held him down.

“Relax. I’ve got you. Tell me if it doesn’t feel good, but otherwise, you can trust me. I promise.”

Bucky couldn’t help the sounds that fell from him. When Steve pressed further into him, he howled and shoved back into the vibrations. “More. Give me more,” he begged.

Steve leaned over his back, and Bucky shivered under the heat. “I’ll give you whatever you want,” he whispered in Bucky’s ear.

Bucky writhed and bucked against the pressure, and he wasn’t quiet about it. Steve reduced him to a sobbing mess, and Bucky didn’t care that he begged with no pride at all. He had no idea how he held on for so long, but finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. With a broken cry, he tensed and poured his release onto the table accompanied by a drawn-out groan that was at least partially pornographic.

He lay panting as Steve flipped off the tool and eased it from him. He was loose and open, and he immediately missed the feeling of being filled. Steve didn’t let him mope, though. Instead, he massaged his thighs and calves in between intermittent grappling with Steve’s balls and taint. Bucky seriously considered signing over his first-born to the man.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself. You deserve to feel good.”

His answer was incoherent, and Bucky didn’t care. He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say, but it came out as a rush of whimpers and expletives. Steve rolled him to his side, and he could only twitch and shake while he was rearranged and manhandled onto his back. He panted as Steve ran his hands over his chest, and he rode the wave of euphoria that Steve helped him find.

Gentle tugs on his hair that turned into rougher yanks brought him back to consciousness. He blinked his eyes open, and Steve stood over him with a soft expression gracing his handsome face. Bucky didn’t know what else to do but watch as Steve scraped his nails along Bucky’s scalp and soothed any traces of leftover tension and pushed them from his body. Their eyes locked on the other, and Bucky felt like he could fall into Steve’s blue gaze.

“How are you?”

Steve’s voice rumbled from him, and Bucky almost drooled. The care with which Steve threaded his fingers through Bucky’s hair seemed more than professional. It had been a long time since Bucky had been with anyone, but he felt the charge between them. They had a connection, and it burned in his chest. He wanted everything this man could give him. Bucky garbled an answer he hoped sounded like something halfway intelligent, and Steve smiled at him.

“That’s good. Really good. Stay with me. There’s more.”

A needy whine caught in the back of his throat, and Steve trailed his fingertips lightly along Bucky’s forehead. He watched as Steve walked around the table to his feet and kept his gaze steady as long fingers kneaded his thighs.

“I know I’ve worked you hard, but do you think you have another in you?”

“I don’t— I can’t—” he mumbled, but Steve took it as a challenge.

“I think you can. I really, really think you can.” Steve’s eyes sparkled as he smiled sweetly. “Want me to try?”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed, but he gritted his teeth and nodded. Steve’s hands kneaded and petted him for several minutes, and Bucky finally twitched in response. Steve chuckled, and Bucky heard the low hum again. He opened his eyes to see what Steve was using. A silver wand massager, about four inches long, was tucked into Steve’s hand, and Bucky salivated knowing what was in store for him.

“I think you can take all of it.”

“Steve. Fuck! You’re ruining me for everything else.”

“That’s why you pay me the big bucks. Because I make it worth it.”

“I’m rewriting my will after this session. You get everything.”

“Already?” he teased. “I’ve got so many other options to offer you.”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back in his head, and Steve bent his legs so his feet were flat on the table. He slathered more massage oil on his hands and the massager and took hold of Bucky’s flaccid dick.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured when Bucky whimpered. “Open up for me, Buck. Let me make you feel good.”

Bucky cried out as Steve slid it in. He wanted it deeper, but he knew he’d break apart if he was any fuller. Steve caressed his balls and stroked his perineum, massaging his prostate from the outside, as he turned up the speed on the wand. Bucky’s body quivered and convulsed, but Steve had more to give him. With the massager in his ass and one of Steve’s thumbs rubbing his taint, Bucky swore when Steve engulfed his rapidly hardening cock in a warm, oil-slick palm.

“Look at you,” Steve growled. “All spread out for me, panting and gagging for it. You are a beautiful specimen of manhood, Bucky Barnes. What I wouldn’t do to you if I had free reign. You can’t even talk, you’re flying so high. How much longer can you hold out? How long can you keep from blowing all over yourself?

“You’re so pretty when you come, Buck. It’s a joy to watch you let go. Will you let me see it? Let me take you apart.”

Bucky wasn’t in his body. He couldn’t be. There was no way the blissful cloud he was riding was anything other than divine. Nothing physical could bring him to this level. He was transcendent. He only felt this good because he’d died and gone to Heaven, and Steve was his welcoming angel.

“You’re so close, Buck. I can see it. You’re used to being in control, holding everything together by yourself, but you crave letting someone else take over. Is that it?”

Bucky tried to answer. He really did, but he couldn’t control any part of his body. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing, and there was no way to actually check when his insides were melting into a molten puddle of goo. That’s all he was. He was liquid pleasure.

“Are you waiting for me to give you permission?” Steve asked, but Bucky was beyond reason. He could hear himself, wailing and begging, but he couldn’t quiet himself. There wasn’t a word for what he was, but enraptured hinted at it. “Bucky, listen to me.”

He fought to focus. He needed the grounding of Steve’s voice, so he blinked open heavy eyes and moaned. He had to be coming. He’d never felt this good unless he was riding an orgasm, but there wasn’t any evidence on Steve’s hand.

“That’s good. Look at me, and listen to what I say. You with me?”

Bucky blinked hard and nodded. That’s all he could manage, but Steve held him in capable hands.

“You deserve this. You deserve to feel this good. Let go.”

He wasn’t sure what happened after that. Everything shattered, and he could only hear his own breathing. It was ragged and shaky and breathy, but he could feel air filling his lungs and pushing it out. He couldn’t move or speak or think, but he knew he was breathing. The rest of him floated in an enraptured haze for what could have been for time eternal. He’d lost all concept of time and reality.

“When you’re ready, there’s water on the table. I’m going to give you some space.”

Bucky heard the door close and realized he was alone. He still couldn’t move, but he could just start to feel his extremities again if he really concentrated. He allowed himself to lie still and come back to himself at his own pace. There was no use in trying to rush it because he was completely limp.

Finally, he was able to move off the table, but his knees buckled when his feet hit the ground. He stumbled to the chair and attempted to dress, but he couldn’t get his limbs to work. A soft knock at the door sounded, and Steve popped his head back in.

“How are you feeling? Can I help?”

Bucky slumped into the chair. He was a badass assassin, had killed some of the biggest marks in the world, and he couldn’t even dress himself. That’s how good Steve Rogers was at his job.

“I can’t,” he groaned.

Steve chuckled and crossed the room. He picked up the bottle of water and opened it. With a gentle smile, he held it to Bucky’s mouth and encouraged him to drink. Once Bucky had, Steve wiped some stray droplets from Bucky’s chin and picked up the shirt from the folded pile of clothes.

“I hope you come back,” Steve murmured as he helped Bucky bend his arms and slip the shirt on over his head. “Anyone who lets go the way you do needs this kind of release.”

“You’re never allowed to retire or change jobs,” Bucky joked, but he wasn’t really kidding. After only two sessions, he was addicted to Steve’s hands on his body.

“I’ll make myself available for private sessions if I ever leave this place.”

“You’re teasing me, but I’m serious,” Bucky insisted. “Finding Asgard, this…you… Best thing that’s happened to me in years.”

“So, I’ll see you again in a couple of weeks?” Steve asked and guided Bucky’s feet into his pant legs.

“Do I have to wait that long?” he asked, only half-joking.

“That’s the endorphins talking,” Steve said softly, but Bucky wasn’t sure.

All he knew was that his two sessions with Steve had made him happier than he’d ever been in his life. He left Asgard with a dopey smile on his face and another appointment, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to wait fourteen days to see Steve again. Bucky missed him already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a blackout. Big thanks to Bucky Barnes Bingo for running this challenge. I didn't find out about it until October, but it's been a joy to participate. Hopefully, I can spread things out in the next round.
> 
> Happy 2021! Come find me on [tumblr](https://buckybarnesdeservestobehappy.tumblr.com/).


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